


You Make Me Wanna

by CheshireCity



Series: 12 Days of Christmas 2015 [1]
Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biting, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Facials, Holidays, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCity/pseuds/CheshireCity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a trying Thanksgiving with his wealthy family, Matt just wanted some time to himself. And then it started: the onslaught of Christmas music. Determined to give his neighbor a piece of his mind, he gets much more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make Me Wanna

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chocolatemoosey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatemoosey/gifts).



> There is a mention of Catholicism here and I want it to be known that I do not condone or condemn any particular faith or the practitioners therein. As this piece was written for my girlfriend (who is gay and was raised Catholic) the discourse therein was detailed for her amusement.

            The holidays were always a point of contention for Mail Jeevus. There was always the once a year commitment of flying out to the East Coast to visit a family he didn’t really want to see, either relegated to Thanksgiving or Christmas. He had chosen to bite the bullet early and come sooner rather than later. After all, there were no presents to open on Thanksgiving and the whole holiday was centered around eating, which meant more time stuffing one’s face full of food and less time talking to one another. And he preferred it that way.

            It wasn’t as if he loathed Christmas or presents, either. On the contrary, he loved receiving things he didn’t want or need along with money to buy the things he _did_ want or need. It was just the whole bother of _family_ and the obligation to get something for _everyone_ who decided to show up at the family house. And they were the tennis club and horse riding sort of family, so a gift card wasn’t ever going to cut it. The sort of opulence they were accustomed to guaranteed that every member of the family crawled out of the woodworks, hoping to gain something valuable. Mail wasn’t that petty, and, moreover, he wasn’t that interested in pandering to everyone else’s shallowness. It was better just to avoid them altogether.

            As it was, Thanksgiving had been a chore. The second he’d stepped off the plane and was greeted by his chauffer he’d been given that particular look of disdain that haughty people had of those “below them”. It drove him crazy. He didn’t give a damn how much money he had or how he looked. He just wanted to have a job he enjoyed and to be happy. That job may not have been the most legal in the world, but hey, it made him happy. And more importantly, the money he made was all his and not something handed out to him by his family. It made him proud to provide for himself, even if others looked down on him for not being rich.

            His parents were as ostentatious as ever: his mother with her couple hundred dollar dresses and flashy jewelry and his dad in his polos and just-been-to-the-club attitude. They swarmed him the second he arrived with their insincere affections, simultaneously trying to touch him as little as possible. “Oh Mail, how have you been? Mail is home!” The redhead practically bristled. He hated that name: for one, it sounded stupid, and for two, it made him feel like part of their fake charade, like he didn’t have his own identity anymore. “It’s Matt,” he corrected flatly. This amendment was promptly ignored and he was ushered to the table. He took his place to one side of his mother, looking about at his siblings: two older and one younger.

            Little Madilyn Jeevus was still a treasure – she had yet to get a big head and still seemed to look up to Matt. He had hopes that that wouldn’t change and that she’d become just as industrious as him. Except maybe on more of a legal scale. He called her ‘Maddie’ and was always happy when she didn’t try to correct him to her full name. With any luck, she’d choose her own moniker one day and win herself some autonomy outside of the amebic family structure. She liked drawing and guitar, and Matt did everything in his power to encourage those interests, sending her presents whenever possible. Sure he might have spoiled her a bit, but if it made her feel more loved and wanted than he had felt, it was worth it.

            Anton and Amber, however, were beyond help. His brother had recently been accepted into a firm as a lawyer and still had the young adult hipster mentality that could only be described as pretentious. He was the sort of asshole that couldn’t understand why everyone didn’t buy organic produce and $40 dollar t-shirts because he was too privileged to get that they were beyond the average person’s price range. As a result, he held the opinion that others were selfish and lazy, accusations which just about made Matt want to tear his own eyeballs out. It didn’t help that he was a self-proclaimed photographer, whose mediocre talent didn’t actually enable him to sell any of his prints. It didn’t matter, though; he still had the bragging rights of gallery showings because he had the funds to pay for them.

            Amber Jeevus was the second oldest, and the one with the least agency. She had attended college and gotten herself a decent degree: she was smart, but she was also lazy. Since childhood, she crowed about finding herself a rich doctor husband, and as an adult, she’d managed to go ahead and do just that. She’d landed a wealthy and highly skilled ophthalmologist who took on exotic jobs like performing surgery on the eyes of foreign queens and princes. It was ludicrous. But as a result, Amber didn’t work at all and was instead relegated to producing a slew of babies. They were all brats and Matt often wondered if she had really even been prepared to be a mother at all. She certainly seemed to drink more wine these days than she ever used to.

            And then there was Matt himself. The younger middle child with, according to his family, no ambition. He didn’t have a respectable job (he could hardly tell them he bought and sold information and hacked websites for cash), and he hadn’t married well. What was worse, he had all but cast off the family name in the pursuit of establishing himself on his own terms. It wasn’t as if it was any secret that he was the least favorite child of the four. The situation wasn’t helped any by his family (sans Maddie) asking him questions that they knew they wouldn’t like the answers to. Things like “You _are_ making at _least_ 100K a year, aren’t you Mail?”, and, “You _do_ have a girlfriend by now, right?” To which he had no choice but to answer, “I don’t really like to talk about financials,” and, “You know the last _boyfriend_ I had dumped me months ago.” To which replies were met with silence and then a disdainful, “Oh.” Which was about as much recognition as Matt had come to expect. This discourse was quickly ended by his mother bringing up how rousing her bingo club was, because of course that was thrilling.

            So needless to say, the redhead was beyond ready to board his return flight home to California and slip into the quiet and peace (and non-judgmental) safety of his own home. Things were just as he liked them. His clothes were on the floor like the fucking adult he was, there was easy-bake pizza in the freezer, there was an extra pack of cigs on the counter so he didn’t have to brave the cold to get more, and there was a fully charged gaming system clasped between his hands. He snuggled down into his favorite armchair, ensconced himself in a blanket, and began to play. And that’s when he heard it: Christmas music.

            “Are you fucking kidding me?” he had groaned aloud. “It’s not even December yet!”

            But his neighbor persisted. Day in and day out, Christmas was determined to be had. This left Matt in a foul mood oftentimes, prompting him to exclaim things he never imagined saying. Things like, “You’re officially on my shit list, Michael Bublé,” and, “You need to sit your ass down, Amy Grant, and stop rockin’ it around the Christmas tree.” But the singers were relentless and didn’t seem to take his advice.

            The second week of December, however, things changed. Instead of the usual litany of Frank Sinatra, Donny Osmond, and Josh Groban, there was another voice. Some singer that he couldn’t recognize. They were male, but soft. Kind of angelic, really. It wasn’t so unpleasant. Until his neighbor chose to play one song or another for days at a time. It alternated for the first few days: ‘O, Holy Night’, ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’, and ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’ were particular favorites. But then the third week of December rolled by.

            And they really, really liked ‘Silent Night’.

            In fact it played every day multiple times a day all the way until December the twenty third. And that was when Matt had finally had enough. Driven to complete insanity, he threw off his blanket, cast his PS Vita aside (gingerly), and searched for his slippers. “This is fucking it,” he proclaimed. “I can’t take it anymore. This madness must be stopped.” Not even bothering to put on decent clothes, he stormed out the front door of the apartment, strolling up to the neighboring 1314 and preparing for the smack down of his life.

            ‘ _This sonnuvabitch. I’m gonna give them a piece of my mind,’_ the redhead steamed. ‘ _I don’t give a fuck if it’s nearly Christmas, I’ve been listening to this shit for weeks and I’m at a god damned breaking point. If I hear one more carol I think I’m gonna go berserk.’_ Steeling himself, he squared his shoulders and rang the doorbell, mustering the most serious take-no-shit face he could.

            There was a faint scrabbling from the other side of the door and the music promptly stopped.

            ‘ _Thank god.’_

            There was a padding of footsteps, then the sound of the chain bolt being slid out of place. When the door swung open, it revealed a man in his twenties with tussled blond hair to his shoulders. He wore grey sweats, but by no means looked sloppy: the top was a cut-off that exposed toned abs beneath and the pants hung teasingly from hips defined by the gentle rise of pelvic bone. Slender, but definitely muscled, he looked like a model.

            “Uh, hey,” Matt began, taken aback.

            “Can I help you?” the man asked. His blue eyes were framed by long brown lashes.

            ‘ _Wow.’_

            “Hey,” the other repeated, mentally shaking himself. He was mad, damn it! “I’m Matt, I’m your next door neighbor in 1315? I don’t think we’ve talked before.”

            “Oh, well pleased to meet you then,” the blond returned somewhat warily. “I’m Mello.”

            ‘ _Mellow? What kind of name is that? Is that his stripper name or something?’_ Imagining the man slowly peeling off those pants of his was really not helping Matt maintain his venom.

            “Uh. Yeah. So, okay, listen: I like Christmas songs as much as the next person but I can hear it through the walls so can you please turn it down a notch?” he expressed in a rush. It wasn’t nearly as gruff or demanding as he had originally intended.

            “Oh shit, I didn’t realize I was being that loud,” the blond frowned, reclining against the doorframe. “That’s probably been annoying as shit.”

            “Well I think I learned the lyrics to ‘Silent Night’ for the rest of my life,” Matt returned evenly.

            “I’ll try to sing quieter then.”

            “Wait, sing?” Matt spluttered. “I thought that was a recording?”

            “Well that’s flattering… I think?” Mello returned. “No, it’s just been me.”

            “Well… you sound really good,” the redhead supplied truthfully. “Even if it has been a bit… repetitive. Why do you keep doing the same songs over and over?”

            “Sorry, I had to practice my breath control,” his neighbor explained. “I’ve got a concert tomorrow night, so I wanted to make sure I sounded perfect.”

            “A concert? On Christmas Eve?”

            “Yeah, I’m kind of in my church’s choir.”

            “Kind of?”

            “I really only show up for performances, so I’m pretty non-participatory.”

            “Huh. What denomination?”

            “Catholic, born and raised.”

            “How’s that working out for you?” Matt asked skeptically.

            “Well I’m gay as a rainbow, I’ve had extramarital sex, I eat meat on Fridays, and I support the evolutionary theory, so take a wild guess how that’s going for me.”

            “And you still go to service?”

            “Well, I figure it can’t hurt, right?” Mello shrugged. “I mean, I believe in an afterlife, so if I do a little bit of everything I’ve got to end up somewhere.”

            “Fair.”

            “Do you go to church?”

            “Depends, are you trying to enlist me?”

            “Oh, come on!”

            “Naw, I don’t. Used to when I was younger – my family’s all Irish, so it was sort of a requirement. That stopped not long after I started school. I guess I’m agnostic now.”

            “Reasonable – most of the kids I went to church with when I was little are agnostic or atheist now. Guess they had enough share of the Catholic guilt.”

            “It can do a number.”

            “Personally, I’m still pissed about the ‘cats can’t go to Heaven’ bullshit. What’s wrong with cats? How can you look at one of those guys and be like, ‘nope, that fucker’s got no soul’. Sorry, but what were the first Catholics? Dog people?”

            “Guess so,” Matt laughed, quirking a smile. “You have any cats yourself?”           

            “No, but I wish,” the blond pouted. “I’d really love a Turkish Angora – they’re gorgeous!”

            “No idea what that is.”

            “They’re really graceful, long-haired cats. French royalty used to keep them, like Marie Antoinette. I really like the white ones with blue eyes, but they tend to be Deaf.”

            “Is that a drawback?”

            “Oh, not at all! They’re just as happy and healthy as any other cat, it’s just probably not a good idea to let them roam around outdoors – in case they don’t notice a car coming or something. Actually, when it comes down to it, I’d probably end up with a Deaf cat over a hearing one, just because they’re not adopted as often. Sad, really.”

            “I think you’d lose one out here,” Matt chuckled, turning and nodding at the snow below them. “If they were all white, I mean.”

            “Ha! That’s assuming they’d even go _in_ the snow – it is wet, you know! Speaking of, where are my manners? You’re probably cold.”

            Matt looked down at himself, skinny and bare-armed in a t-shirt and ratty old plaid pants: his sleepwear on most nights. “Uh, yeah, actually.”

            “Come on in,” Mello beckoned, stepping away from the door. “You seem pretty alright, so you can hang with me.”

            ‘ _That’s kind of an imperious way to put it,’_ the redhead mused. All the same, he entered the other’s apartment, immediately relieved by the rush of warmth. For as festive as his neighbor had sounded, his space wasn’t anywhere near as decorated as Matt had come to expect. The place was kept sparse and organized, with one brown couch and a junky old TV making up the majority of the living room. A piece of wood set atop cinderblocks made up a side table, and a row of half-burned candles made their way across the mantelpiece. Matt seriously hoped that his neighbor wasn’t relying on them for light, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

            _‘Fuck me, I hope I’m not sounding like my folks. It’s not like I’m gonna sugar the guy or anything. He’s just really hot and maybe can’t pay all the bills. …And I’m a creepy sack of shit for making a porno out of this scenario,’_ he mentally berated himself. His self-depreciation was quickly terminated as the blond returned, flopping himself down on the couch, chocolate bar in hand.

            “Come sit,” he motioned, chomping off a square of candy and patting the seat beside him. Not wanting to be rude, Matt obliged, keeping his arms and legs to himself as much as possible. It was hard not to notice that his neighbor sat in an appealing way: arms hooked over the back of the couch, legs spread confidently apart. He looked like a king on his throne.

            “You skittish or somethin’?” he teased, noticing the redhead’s compact posture.

            “No, just trying to be polite.”

            “Quit it,” the blond snorted. “Just relax.”

            Matt chuckled nervously and let the tension ebb from his body. He didn’t like the fact that he was entertaining increasingly filthy fantasies about his neighbor, and he wasn’t sure that there was a polite way of explaining to him that he was afraid of forming an inappropriately timed boner.

            “Sorry about this place,” Mello said at random.

            “What do you mean?”

            “It’s jenky as fuck.”

            Matt coughed out a laugh, surprised at the bluntness. “It’s not terrible.”

            “Dude,” Mello leveled at him. “I have about three pieces of actual furniture: my bed, this couch, and a bookshelf I found in the trash downstairs. Everything else came with the apartment. Good thing, too, ‘cause I’d be screwed without a refrigerator.”

            “I’m just happy mine has a dishwasher,” the other confessed. “I am so lazy, I’ll just let the dishes pile up for days at a time.”

            “ _I’m_ so lazy that I just buy paper plates and bowls.”

            “Goals.”

            “Clearly we’ve got this adult thing on lock.”

            “No shame,” Matt shrugged. “It just means there’s more money to spend on more important things, right?”

            “You make it sound like it isn’t a necessity.”

            The redhead shot him a furtive glance. He wasn’t sounding too one percent, was he? It wasn’t as if his salary was reliable or fixed, but he usually raked in enough to have plenty for amenities, groceries, and luxury items (i.e., video games and cigarettes). Then again, even without his parent’s direct interference in his finances, he _had_ had a savings account to draw from, so he wasn’t ever in any immediate risk of living in a wax-sealed box under some bridge. Guiltily he looked over to where Mello was nonchalantly gnawing at his chocolate. What was he going to do? Admit his privilege?

            “Calm down, I know you’re rolling in it,” the other informed him. “I’ve seen you come home with big ass bags from Game Stop and clothes and shit from department chains. It’s not like you’re making ends meet via Walmart.”

            “Sorry…”

            “Shit, man, I’m not trying to guilt you,” Mello laughed dryly. “I’m just saying you don’t have to fake it for my sake.”

            “You’re pretty real, you know that?”

            “I try.”

            “Well, uh, I could always bring over one of my consoles if you ever wanted to play something. Video games are kind of my hobby, to be honest.”

            “I’d appreciate that, actually. I’ve got my laptop and my cell, but that’s about all I can manage at the moment,” the blond admitted. “They’re pretty much required for work, though.”

            “Oh yeah, what do you do?”

            “You’d rather not know.”

            “That secret, huh?”

            “It’s enough to get by. Most times.”

            “Wish I could help you out somehow.”

            “Like what, I suck your dick and you pay my bills?” the blond smirked.

            “No! Like get you some connections and… wow… you’re really… forward.” Matt stammered.

            “I like you,” the other mused, resting his chin on a palm. “You didn’t say ‘slutty’: it’s like you actually have respect for other people and their choices.”

            “Well that’s because I do. It’s not my place to judge.”

            “You’re not like most guys, are you? At least, not like the ones I’ve met.”  

            Again, Matt had to wonder what sort of profession his neighbor had, especially if he was in frequent contact with horrible people. Probably customer sales.

            “Acting like that, it makes me want to favor you,” the smirk deepened.

            “W-wouldn’t that be like prostitution?”

            “Please, like I need an incentive. I don’t actually expect you to pay my utilities.”

            “I wouldn’t want to be taking advantage of the situation…”

            “Don’t be coy – I’m hot and you’re horny. Besides, you’re already half-hard.”

            Matt looked down sharply, cheeks blossoming red. “Shit! Sorry, wow, fuck, this is humiliating.”

            “What? Already cut to the chase and imagined me on my knees? Eager,” Mello teased, pressing up against the other’s body. His eyes were heady and his breath smelled of chocolate.

            Matt didn’t bother with denying anything. “At least kiss me first,” he mumbled, torn between ecstatic and embarrassed.

            ‘ _What is even happening right now? Is this real life? Holy shit, I think this guy is serious about sucking me off: it really is Christmas.’_

            “If I must,” the blond sighed dramatically. The look evanesced into a genuine smile. He almost looked… flustered? Matt found it to be overwhelmingly sexy. His neighbor drew even closer, pressing them chest to chest as he trailed one hand along the expanse of Matt’s neck, making him shiver. They stared intently into each other’s eyes, foreheads nearly touching. Mello’s fingers dusted their way along the redhead’s jaw, inching up and fingering at his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward, gently kissing his bottom lip with his own supple, soft ones.

            Matt allowed himself a soft moan, leaning into the kiss and melting into the warmth of his partner. Damn, this guy was good. He sucked gently at Matt’s lips, kissing first the bottom lip, then the top, then the both, licking lightly at the seam. The gamer gasped, and his partner instantly took advantage of the access to his mouth, sliding their tongues together.

            If Mello’s lips were enticing, his mouth was divine: velvety, wet, and hot. He quickly took charge, governing the movements of their lips, catching them playfully with his teeth from time to time before lathing more attention over the more sensitive parts of Matt’s mouth.

            Boldly, he let his free hand wander, working over the front of the redhead’s shirt and pawing gently at his chest. Finding a nipple, he stroked gently, earning a surprised mewl from Matt. “You’re not used to being touched here, are you?” the blond asked confidently. Matt shook his head ‘no’. The blond continued his actions, taking the time to lay kisses and small bites to the other’s neck. “You like it?”

            “It’s… surprisingly intense,” the man panted. “Damn.”

            “Hmn, but I bet you’d like attention elsewhere,” Mello countered, kissing the redhead again while he let his hand trail down his abdomen. As his fingers found purchase in the other’s waistband, the two broke away, smiling dazedly.

            “You taste sweet, like chocolate,” Matt observed hazily.

            “If it’s based on what I eat, I’d rather taste like your cum,” the blond countered.

            “Holy fuck,” was his elegant reply.

            “That’s the point,” Mello laughed, excitedly bounding from the couch and positioning himself between the other’s legs. Gazing upwards with a predatory smile, he began to ease the flannel pants from Matt’s hips, hooking his fingers over the man’s boxers. “I take it you’d like these off? It looks like it’s growing uncomfortable.”

            “Yes, please,” the redhead returned enthusiastically.

            The other snorted a soft laugh, easing the material down until it pooled about the other’s ankles. Taking the time to draw out first one foot then the other, he tossed the garments out of the way altogether. Matt lay exposed to him, cock growing harder and quivering with anticipation. A soft trail of downy red hair led up to his stomach, giving Mello the perfect place to begin.

            With gentle care, he navigated around the other’s cock, purposefully ignoring it as he began to lay kisses across his abs. He started in the middle, working down and to the sides; right where under normal circumstances the skin would have been tickly, but, aroused, just left Matt moaning at the teasing. Mello smiled against the planes of his lover’s stomach, enjoying the shivers he was causing. It made him feel so powerful to make someone else needy. Especially when they begged. His eyes flitted up to Matt’s half-closed ones. Oh, he hoped he would beg.

            He could feel Matt hardening against the dip of his collarbone, but he continued to ignore him, dipping lower and lower but never close enough. His kisses fell across spread-open hips, cresting the hills of subtle pelvic bones and descending to the valleys between his legs. His hands braced themselves on either knee, pressing gently and willing the redhead to bare himself in his entirety. Matt willingly obliged, whimpering as kiss after kiss deprived him of the friction he craved.

            But Mello was relentless and he teased back and forth along the other’s sensitive thighs, biting and sucking at the flesh gently, inwardly hoping that he’d leave a mark or two behind. Matt keened into every scrape of teeth, encouraging him onwards as he sucked the skin pink more and more. _‘This better purple in the morning,’_ the blond praised himself.

            Satisfied, he moved on, drawing up close to Matt’s cock and locking eyes with him. Coyly, he blew across the sensitized skin, swelling with pleasure as it twitched out of the corner of his eye. Not breaking eye contact, he lowered his head, fingers snaking up around the base of the redhead’s cock and guiding it into his open mouth. The returning moan came instantaneously as Matt was submerged in the velveteen warmth of the blond’s mouth.

           Mello hummed lightly against the intrusion, sucking only the head as he began to swirl his tongue around it. Bobbing slightly, he worked his way down, inch by inch, feeling a rush of adrenaline as Matt’s hips began to shake. ‘ _Fuck he wants to shove it all in,’_ Mello purred to himself. ‘ _He wants to fuck my mouth so bad.’_ The thoughts raced straight to his cock, making it twitch to life. He moaned sweetly as it began to weep across the front of his pants, too confined and growing desperate to be touched. There was little that got him so hard as sucking dick, and with self-indulgent pleasure he stroked Matt off, easing his mouth back up to encapsulate just the tip.

            With short, lathing strokes he teased the slit, delighting in Matt’s strangled cries.

            “Mello, _oh_ Mello!” he whimpered, grasping desperately at the fabric of the couch.

            “Mn?” the other hummed, intensifying the pleasure.

            “ _Fuck_ , yes, you’re amazing.”

            Mello smirked around the cock in his mouth, letting his eyes close as he focused on his task. This time he began working his hand, pumping slowly up and down the shaft, rolling his fingers to meet his thumb in little rings to vary the pressure. He found a steady pace, sucking, bobbing, then licking, alternating between tucking his tongue flat beneath the head and dancing around the tip. It was driving Matt crazy.

            The blond let his hand fall back to the base of the other’s dick, reaching down and fondling him. He felt hot and engorged under his hand, and the gentle squeezing only led him to moan some more. Taking advantage of the freed shaft, Mello withdrew his mouth, laying kisses against the length, trailing up and down it. Fluting his lips, he began to suck, tasting the skin as it grew salty with precum. Spurred on by his results, he drew the fluid into his mouth, coating all of the other’s dick in intoxicating wetness.

            Unable to take anymore, Mello dropped his roving hand, reaching down between his own tented legs and fondling himself through the front of his tight pants. The relief was instantaneous, and he moaned around the cock in his mouth. With shaky fingers, he pushed at the waistband of his sweats, freeing himself from the confines of his pants and letting his weighted dick drip against the hardwood.

            “Fuck Mello, you’re so sexy,” the redhead panted, watching with growing interest as the other man began to slowly stroke himself. Mello pulled away, allowing Matt access to view his little display, reveling in the fact that it was making them both wetter. When he returned, his pace had quickened, his free hand steadying the other’s cock as he bobbed his head along the length with fervor. He thumbed little circles against the reddened flesh, urging Matt to completion.

            “Fuck! _Fuck_ , Mello,” his partner encouraged.

            He sucked harder, hollowing out the flesh of his cheeks and taking turns rubbing the head against the insides of them. Matt’s words deteriorated quickly into senseless whimpers, his fingers jerking and aching to work themselves through the other’s hair.

            “Mel- Mello, _Mel_.”

            The blond hummed his amusement, eyes closed and dewy against the onslaught. It was getting hard to breathe, but he worked faster, thrilled by his partner’s rapture. He worked the cock to the back of his mouth, letting it drum against his throat, sucking in earnest. The redhead came undone.

            “Mel, _please_. Please let me cum, make me cum!” And that was all it took for the blond to bring him to release, pulling his open mouth away and stroking vigorously. Matt arched his back, hips shaking, as strands of white cum shot across Mello’s expectant face, shivering at the humiliation.

            When the redhead opened his eyes, still panting, he took in the scene with mixed craving and concern. Before he had the chance to apologize or worry, Mello sat back on a palm, exposing himself fully to the other and stroking himself off lewdly. The predatory look had returned to his eyes, mirrored by a hungry smirk. There was no way Matt couldn’t watch.

            “Damn, Mel, wow,” he breathed, biting at his lip. “You’re so sexy; come on, let me see you cum.”

            Mello keened into the affectionate words, tossing his head to one side and submissively showing off the pale arch of his neck. His hips could hardly contain themselves, rising steadily to meet his hand with every thrust.

            “Come on, baby, cum for me,” Matt encouraged.

            Mello groaned and with three quick strokes, he was spilling over his hand, hot and milky. He peeked sexily through a sheet of hair, toying his lips into a satisfactory grin. Still shaky, he leaned forward, arms draped over the other’s legs. He looked up at his partner, face flushed, lips plump, and golden hair ruffled. Matt thought he looked absolutely beautiful. The blond grinned proudly, resting his head against the other’s thigh. “Merry Christmas, asshole,” he sighed good-naturedly.

            “Damn, Mel, that was amazing,” Matt breathed, petting his lover’s hair.

            “I try.”

            “You succeed.”

            Mello placed a kiss to the inside of the other’s leg and shifted his weight slightly. The redhead kept petting his hair, shyly drawing his fingers down to tilt the blond’s face up towards his own.

            “Hey, uh… any chance of making this more permanent?”

            “As in booty calls?”

            “As in dating.”

            Mello’s smile broadened instantly. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

            “So… is that a ‘yes’?”

            “Do you need it in writing?”

            “Well good, cause I was thinking: I’d like to put that angelic voice of yours to better use.”

            Mello cocked a brow and smirked. Unfolding his slender frame, he rose and grabbed a hold of Matt’s wrist, easing him up from the couch. “Oh babe, you’re gonna really hear me sing.”


End file.
